


Michelle Jones's Guide to Getting Peter Parker's Head out of His Ass

by DittyWitty



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Artist MJ, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunk Peter, Drunk Texting, Eavesdropping, Fluff, Getting Together, High thoughts, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, MJ is a Good Bro, MJ is a bit nosy, MJ is a good ass friend, MJ is a good friend, MJ is a stoner lesbian fight me, Making Out, Michelle Jones POV, Non-Graphic Violence, Oblivious, Peter is an Idiot, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Smoking, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twilight References, Wade is an idiot, Watching Movies, like not sexual teasing like friend teasing, mj centric, not 1st or 2nd person, well more so peter tries to drunk text, you better book an appointment with the dentist after this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 16:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWitty/pseuds/DittyWitty
Summary: MJ knows Peter's Spider-Man. He's not exactly subtle. However, Peter doesn't know that she knows.But He's acting differently. He's been smiling more, letting things go and seems to be overall just in a better mood. He sometimes stares off into the distance, a smile dancing on his face and his eyes twinkling.SheknowsPeter, and that boy has got a big 'ol crush. She has a feeling the person is from his weird nighttime hobby/moral obligation, for he's been secretly/not-so-secretly leaving earlier than usual.Here's what she doesn't know: Who the fuck he's sneaking out for, leaving MJ all alone. She would be bitter if Peter wasn't so happy.ORPeter and Wade are disgustingly in love, yet soannoyinglyoblivious to each other'sveryapparent attraction towards one another and MJ has seen enough.





	Michelle Jones's Guide to Getting Peter Parker's Head out of His Ass

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to writing this. I love MJ so much and I've been itching to write her lately. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my homegirl [Gabi](https://gaberonimaceroni.tumblr.com/), that cornfield fucker who annoys me daily.

Peter Parker is one of the strangest people Michele Jones had ever met.

So naturally, she became his friend.

There was just something so _peculiar_ about him, how he was so awkward and yet so sassy at the same time. At first, she made fun of him, watching him stare at Liz whats-her-face at lunch was actually quite hilarious, and a little pathetic.

She told him so.

See, most teenage boys, would either get all over-compensating “I-must-disrespect-the-vagina” or some would just kinda shrivel up and a little bit. Probably cry when they went home. Her immature ass almost liked that. Thank god she grew out of that, well, _kinda._

Instead, he gives her a face and goes back to being pathetic. So, he passed the test. He stood his ground, didn’t attack MJ or start changing his ways. So like, _respect._

They became friends after that. He would sometimes get detention, and she kept him company while Ned was doing Ned-things. From an outside hetero-normative view, it would look like MJ had a little crush on Peter or that Peter had a crush on MJ. It wasn’t true, and they both knew.

High school kinda sucked major ass, but Peter and Ned didn't. Well, figuratively. MJ had a bit of feeling Peter sucked other things on the side, but she wasn’t going to say that yet. It’s called _minding her own business_ , which is something Peter does not seem to be capable of, apparently. High school didn’t seem to suck so bad after having friends, so that was a plus.

So, naturally, when Peter and MJ couldn’t abandon their New York roots and live in some other gross ass city, so they roomed together after college. Ned, bless his soul, had no problem leaving New York and decided to attend a college in Virginia, of all places. Sure, it’s technically in Richmond, but like who would choose to live in _Virginia_?

(She still doesn’t know the answer, and it’s been 4 years since he left.)

Ned’s now living up in Chicago, and she misses him dearly.

Now, living with Peter was a very different situation than going to high school with him. Like, _very_ different.

Not in like a _bad way_ , but also in a _bad way._

But mostly, it’s pretty good. Sure, they’re never alone, but they’re also _never_ alone. Peter doesn’t clean up after himself, he has so much _stuff_ in his room, like how the fuck does he live like that? She outright refuses to go in his room, that shit stresses her out too much.

But, Peter _also_ knows when to leave her the fuck alone, he buys her food whenever he “accidentally” spills something (which she’s like, 100% sure is an act), and doesn’t give her grief or snitch for smoking. He’s loyal, will laugh at and with her, call her ass out, gives spectacular advice whenever she occasionally vents.

He’s one her closest friends, and she couldn’t be more grateful for her being nosy (and a hypocrite) back at those questionably sticky lunch tables back in senior year.

He’s also, very bad at hiding that he’s Spiderman. It’s actually kinda funny. He still hasn’t told her, as if he’s slick, which he really isn’t. She’ll most likely confront him about it later, maybe come up with some stupid line like, “ _heard you and Spiderman fuckin’_ ”, and see those eyes practically pop outta his skull and his lips like bunch up.

Here’s the problem, Peter hasn’t been around as much as he used to. They used to hang out all the time when MJ isn't working on commissions and Peter wasn’t doing… whatever he does at Stark Industries (which, again; He works at Stark Industries? How does he think no one is going to notice the connection). Now, he comes back to their apartment hours later than he usually does, or crawls out the window earlier than usual, saying he was “tired.” Now, if he wasn’t Spiderman, she would have plugged in her earphones and turned her volume up loud because it doesn’t take a _genius_ to know what’s going on with that.

But he’s Spiderman, so _thank god_ for that.

He’s lowkey ditching her, but it’s whatever. She can do her own thing. Sure, after being alone for so long, she was kind of used to it. Maybe he was finally getting laid, or something. But as Spiderman? MJ isn’t going to pretend to know or _care_ about Superheros but she’s pretty sure most of them are like, kinda old. Or taken. She knows Captain America from those “educational” videos from Gym, but isn’t he like with that metal arm dude? She doesn’t want to know or find out, after hearing Captain _MotherFucking_ America explain herpes was more than enough for her.

Unless he’s going out with the suit on because he’s like, into freaky shit, which is like not something she would expect but you never know. She really doesn’t want to think about that though, like at all. _Gross._

Maybe she’s just sad that Peter’s keeping so much of his life from her. Though Peter had done this whole secret keeping spiel before, It was only 2 years ago when Peter came out to her, or more so he started being more specific with the pronouns used when describing his partners.

That and the dick pic that popped up when MJ was looking up something on his phone.

She didn’t really _mean_ to tap on the notification, but her stupid high ass thought she was using her own phone, so naturally, she had to respond. Then she was met with, well, a dick. More specially, a black circumcised dick. If she wasn’t high, she would probably be screaming.

“Peter.” MJ tapped—well, tried to tap Peter on his arm but missed and tapped the couch.

“Hm?” Peter turned his head towards her, waiting. She angled the phone towards Peter, a snide smile on her face.

“Was this weed laced, or is this a dick pic that was just sent to you?” MJ pointed at the dick, her eyebrow raised.

“Uh.” Peter stared at her for a couple minutes, or maybe seconds; she doesn’t know.

“I didn’t know you were in B-B-C Peter. Or _C_ , in general.”  MJ mused, even though she _totally_ suspected.

“Well, I don’t dick discriminate.” Peter shrugged, and MJ just kinda sat there staring at the dick, thinking to herself that dicks are kinda trippy if you like, _think_ about it.

“Why are— _gimme this_ ,” he snatched the phone out of her hand, “why are you still looking at it?”

“Dicks are just like… _weird_. I feel like you can’t like understand the dick until you’ve had the dick, you know? Like do you understand vaginas? Cos’ like, that shit is so cool. Fuck dude. You gotta try it.”

“I mean, you’re not wrong.” Peter quipped, cocking his head to the side, a cocky grin his face. Ha- _cock_ , like the one in front of her. Life is crazy.

“Do guys just usually send dick pics at… 8:52 P-M? If so, what have you been up to Peter Parker?” MJ questioned.

“I’m just as surprised as you, which you know I haven't’ gotten an unsolicited dick pic in a while. It’s whatever. He was kind of weird anyway.”

“That’s a shame, it was a nice looking dick too.” MJ sighed, thinking about that dick.

“MJ!” Peter exclaimed, slapping her on her arm.

And that was that. Peter was bi, and didn’t dick-discriminate either, apparently. 

-

The last relationship Peter was in was with some guy from NYU, she met him once and _immediately_ didn’t like him. She told as much.

“I don’t like him,” MJ said as soon as she heard the click of the door from behind her, where she was fixing up some toast. Now, maybe it wasn’t her place but she felt it was her duty to protect Peter Parker from harm’s way. Harm’s way also included 5’10 redheads who totally oozed douche vibes.

“What?”

“Your boyfriend, what’s-his-face.” MJ tried to recall, but not really. She just didn’t care.

“You like, _just_ heard his name. And he’s not my boyfriend.” Peter rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“Well, I chose to forget it.” MJ quipped, buttering her toast.

“It’s Daniel. He’s nice.” Peter explained, a bit of resignation in his voice.

“No, he’s a douche.” MJ rebutted, in her signature monotone, oh-but-you’re-wrong voice.

“He’s _hot._ ” Peter countered.

“A hot douche that’s going to break your heart,” MJ warned, taking a bite out of her toast, a look at question her face. The look of ‘ _are-you-sure-about-that-you-idiot?_ ’

“What heart? I don't have feels. So piss off, he has _skills, Michelle._ I know you don’t know what those are, so just take my word for it.”

He did end up being a douche, but MJ didn’t say ‘I told you so’ until he got his 3rd rebound. He did end up punching her in the boob for that one. Worth it.

-

She really was going to confront Peter about being Spiderman, it was annoying at this point him pretending to not be him. She just didn’t know how exactly to say it in a way that didn’t seem aggressive or serious, it was _quite_ a dilemma.

As it turns out, she didn’t have to decide.

It was around 3 in the morning, she was hunched over at her desk working on a commission for some swanky white dude when she gets a phone call from Peter.

“Michelle.” It was Peter, his breathing sounding ragged and deep.

“Peter? Are you okay?”

“I’m-- Just come into my room, just hurry. Under the sink there’s a first aid kit, grab it.” He hung up, but she was already moving. She busted through Peter’s room, and was met with him laid on the floor, wearing his Spiderman suit, it was a bit roughed up but blood painted a section of his right arm. His mask was off, and there was swelling around his eye.

“ _Holy shit_.” MJ stopped in her tracks, feeling breathless.

“Surprise?” Peter gave a sympathetic smile, like the asshole that he was.

“What the fuck happened?”

“I was shot. I need you to just, it went through but, fuck. Just I need you to stitch it up for me, I usually go to my friend, but he’s out of town. I just--”  Peter’s eyes were frantic, and his right arm was limp, his left hand applying pressure on his right forearm.

She rushed over, dropping to his side and got to work. She didn’t really know exactly how to give stitches, that not something people just know how to do. MJ knew how to sew, she used to back in middle school when she was protesting capitalism, for some reason. Though fabric and skin aren’t exactly the _same fucking thing_. Maybe all that watching of _Grey’s Anatomy_ freshman year finally paid off.

Probably not.

She did the best she could though. There was complete silence in the room for the next couple of minutes, only Peter’s panting. After a bit, she did the last stitch, feeling uneasy.

“Okay. I’m done, I think. I don’t know.” She stammered, brain moving all wild-like, going over every stitch she did trying to double check _that everything was okay._

“It’s fine, you did okay. I just, I know you have questions, I just--”

“It’s okay. We can talk about to tomorrow morning. You good?” MJ waved him off, grabbing some PJs from his drawer and handing it to him.

“Thank you.” Peter croaked, and MJ patted his head, the feeling of melancholy filling her eyes. She just hoped he felt her concern through the tap. She walked over to the door, yet paused, looking back at Peter.

“Don’t worry about it, holler if you need anything.” She smiled, and turned back into her room, settling in her bed.

She didn’t sleep that night, not until the sun filled the living room, peeking underneath her door and her eyes couldn’t take the weight anymore.

She dreamt of bullets and blood. Something she hadn’t thought of in a while.

-

The next morning, wasn’t as awkward as she thought it was going to be.

The memories of the night before flooded back to MJ a couple minutes after she woke up. She left her room, ready to check on Peter when she saw he was already up in their kitchen fixing up a cup of coffee. Most likely for her, for Peter doesn’t drink coffee.

“Good morning MJ.” Peter greeted her, calmly.

“You’re surprisingly chipper for someone who just got _fucking shot._ ”

“It happens.” Peter shrugged, a bit too casual. Concerningly so.

“I have questions.”

“Shoot.” Peter propositioned, a smirk on his face.

“Was that a _pun_?” MJ asked, making a face.

“Maybe. How long have you known?” Peter asked, like what the fuck, it was her turn to ask the questions.

“Senior year of high school. You’re not subtle. How long have you been Spiderman?”

“Junior year. Field trip, spider bite. Tony Stark gave me the suit a couple months after.”

“Daddy Stark? I knew it.” MJ smiled, raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way, like an asshole.

“ _Please,_ Do not call him that.” Peter groaned, putting his head in his head while shaking it, clearly disgusted at the suggestion. MJ was just as grossed out, but she would never, _ever_ miss out on teasing the fuck outta Peter.

She earned that right.

-

Peter seemed to be happier lately. Smiling more and all that.

MJ was instantly confused.

Not that Peter wasn’t a happy person, he was, or so she thinks. He was just _happier,_ and which was a good thing. He deserves it and all that. Sometimes he would stare off into the distance with dopey eyes, to which MJ would always wave her hand in front of his face, grabbing his attention. He always blushed a little when she did that, as if he was still 17 years old.

Happy Peter was the best Peter. He didn’t even yell at her when she smoked in the living room, only sat down with her and chilled. Not the same type of chill she wishes he would have been doing but to each their own.

He was also sneaking out his window earlier than usual and returning later in the night whenever he did his patrol, which was almost becoming every night. He would bitch a little about being tired after though, he even dozed off on the metro the other day, turning MJ’s shoulder into a pillow.

Conclusion: Peter Parker had a little crush on someone. It wasn’t a sight she had seen for quite some time now, for most of the guys he had been with previously had been purely just hookups. There was this one girl from NYU, but that never went anywhere. Though his sappy-ness wasn’t like this was her.

She just hopes that maybe, the look stays, and maybe the crush goes somewhere. He deserves it.

“So, who is it?”

“What?”

“The guy, or girl. That you crushin’ on. Don’t try to play Peter, I know you. You’re-” She imitates Peter’s love-struck eyes and cradles her head in her palm, looking off into the distance, “ _Smitten_.”

“I am not _smitten_.”

“Uh, yes, you are. C’mon, tell me. Somebody I know? Got a name for me?”

“You wouldn’t know him. His name is Wade. He’s from you know,” Peter does the signature web shooter motion, instead of saying it out loud, for some reason. 

“Tell me ‘bout him.”

“He’s… uh. I don’t know how to describe him, really. He’s very weird, but in like a good way. Funny and sexy. He’s so passionate about everything and _cares so much_ about everything, including people. Well, for the most part. Doesn’t care about what people think and has some… _questionable_ morals. I really like him, it’s just like, I don’t know if he likes me like that you know? I don’t want to make everything awkward.” 

“You’re smitten. It’s decided.”

“I am _not!"_

-

It was a Saturday morning, and when MJ went into their living room, she saw a man. On her couch. Now her, being an idiot and practically half asleep, yelled:

“Uh, who the _fuck_ are you?”

The man jumps up and turns around, giving MJ a full view of his face. It’s almost hard to see, he has a baseball cap underneath the hood draped over his face, but she could still see it. The scars at least. That wasn’t her concern right now, the real trouble was who the _fuck_ was this guy? And what the _fuck_ was she doing there standing like an idiot? Right. She ran over to her kitchen, grabbing one of the kitchen knives stashed in some random drawer. Strange man, meet kitchen knife.

The man’s eyes widened, and his hands shooting up in surrender. Yeah, she _showed_ him. Peter ran into the room, right on time, eyes panicked and somehow wider than the man next to him.

“Wait! MJ! It’s just _Wade!”_ He says, frantic and running towards MJ, whose body has now relaxed. She still didn’t put down the knife.

“What--Give me that,” Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing the knife out of her hand.

“Uh, okay. MJ, meet Wade. Wade, meet MJ.” Peter introduces them to each other, breathing a bit nervously, and she saw him wipe his palms on his jeans. Correction: _skinny jeans._ Peter Parker, _you sly dog._

“Howdy.” Wade greets with a small wave, his face neutral, but his eyes smiled. 

“Hi.” MJ greets bluntly and was still giving the guy the stink eye. He doesn't seem to be phased.

Peter walks over to their couch and Wade sits back in his place, his face warming up at the sight of Peter. Peter pressed play and continued to watch… _House Hunters_? She stands there for a second, thinking. To sit with Peter and his crush or to not sit with Peter and his Crush.

She sits down, looking over at the two, they were sitting close to each other, yet not touching. So they haven’t fucked yet. Good to know. Currently, a there was this generic white couple looking at the ugliest house in the entire world, or more so _pretending_ to be looking at it. 

A couple episodes later, Peter and Wade’s knees were now touching, and MJ learned that Wade is, in fact, very funny. Weird, like really weird, but funny. They spent the episode laughing at the couples and Wade’s commentary. She doesn’t know how it happened, but soon enough she found herself roped into the game that was “which house did they pick”, and was screaming the number she thought they would pick. Wade, always won. She was starting to think he’s seen every episode.

She also noticed Peter sneaking glances at Wade every once and a while, smiling to himself. He laughed more, making strange comments that could only be inside jokes. They left after a couple hours, to grab some food to bring back. MJ would have offered to go, but she wasn’t going to be the third wheel to the weird pinning not-date they were about to have.

They came back a bit later, gracing MJ with sweet, _sweet_ Mexican food.

MJ had put on _Law and Order_ , the original one, while they were gone. They watched _Law and Order_ while they munched on their food. Peter and Wade had upgraded from just touched knees, but now shoulders. Riveting.

He also made some concerning comments on the inaccuracies on how the bodies were killed. Peter acted like this was normal, though MJ was very apprehensive about it, yet she let it go. Kinda. If he turned out to be a murderer she was definitely going to scold Peter on his taste in guys.

It was about 3 in the afternoon when Wade left, winking at Peter and saying something like “I’ll see that fine ass tonight” and waved goodbye to MJ. Peter closed the door with a dopey smile and a bit a redness dusting his cheeks and turned to MJ, who had her arms crossed.

“You’re _smitten_. I was right.”

“Maybe. Do you like him?” Peter responds, a coy smile on his face.

“Yeah, he’s alright. Have fun with your booty call tonight. Please, do not fuck him here, I have shit to do.” MJ starts to walk away, back into her cave.

“What? Oh, no, we aren’t-- we’re not _together_ or anything. I patrol with him. He’s just like that.” Peter says from behind her, stammering. She sighs and does a 180, staring at Peter, who was obviously very uncomfortable.

“It sure _sounded_ like a booty call.” MJ asserted.

“It’s not like that, he’s like that with everyone,” Peter assured her, explaining away his obliviousness.

“Oh really? Did I _momentarily_ become _deaf_ and miss him saying ‘ _oh goodbye MJ, I’ll be sucking on those tits later._ ’?”

“He just doesn’t know you well enough yet.” Oh, there Peter goes, further down into the rabbit hole that was denial.

“You’re full of shit. Ask him out.”

“No, _you’re_ full of shit. You don’t know him like I do.” Peter scoffed, obviously on the defense.

“I don’t think you know him _at all_ if you don’t think he’s into you. You guys were practically _cuddling_. We don’t do that, and I’m your _best friend._ ”

“We don’t do that because you don’t like people touching you. Seriously, _drop it_.” Peter falters, his eyes dropping low. She instantly felt like the worst friend in the entire world, her body instantly releasing the tension in her body, her eyes becoming soft.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes, her hand goes out to pat Peter on the back. He smiles softly at her, but it never reaches his eyes.

“It’s okay.” He walks into his room, the door closing with a soft click. She stood there for a second, then made her way to their kitchen, pulling out the ingredients for brownies.

Peter wasn’t just smitten, he was sadly smitten. In the ‘I-like-this-guy-but-I-don't-want-to-ruin-our-friendship’ type way.

Sad Peter, meet the Jones Family Secret Recipe brownies.

-

Wade came over more after that. Sometimes in the middle of the night. She had grown to like Wade and joined them if she was awake. Most of the time she was.

“I’m smoking this in here, by the way,” MJ stated as she walked into the living room, joint in hand. Peter rolled his eyes but didn’t object. Wade smiled at Peter, he seemed to think Peter’s eye rolls were cute, or something. She sat in her spot on their couch and lit the joint, inhaling the smoke and blowing it away from Peter’s face, even though she _really, really, really_ wanted to blow it in his stupid face. For shits and giggles. She held out the joint slightly, gesturing towards Wade if he wanted a hit.

“Won’t do anything to me, but thank you.” Wade shrugged, a slight smile on his face, pulling at his scars and making them crinkle.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, taking yet another drag from the joint, examining it afterwards.

“Oh, you know, mutant superpower stuff. I won’t bore you with the details.” Wade waved her off.

“No, please, _do tell_. Now I’m interested. You’re a mutant?” MJ questioned, arms crossed.

“Yep-o-roonskees! I heal from everything and let me tell you girl, _everything_. Can’t get drunk, can’t get high, none of that.” Wade chirped, as if he was proud, yet covering some resignation. The sadness behind the statement she could not understand, but she decided not to press. She knows her place, kinda. She instead took a hit, shrugging to no one but herself. She raised her eyebrow though, not really thinking anymore. She body was feeling more and more relaxed, her legs feeling a bit fuzzy. Just the way she liked it.

“Huh, that’s kinda cool. Makes Peter over here look pretty lame in comparison.” MJ teased, a smirk painting her face.

“Um, _excuse me_? My abilities are cool, don’t be jealous. Wade can’t stick to walls, but you know who can? _Me._ ” Peter challenged, pointing to himself with an annoyed expression.

“I mean, _c’mon_. That’s pretty cool.” Wade agreed, smirking. MJ gave a bit of a side eye, but shrugged, taking another hit and tapping it on the ashtray that was placed on the coffee table in front of them.

“Whatever. Anything interesting happen today?” She began, trying to start small talk. Even though she hated small talk, but it was polite. Not that she knows what that was.

“Petey-boy over here let me ride his back while we swung back here. I was his little spider monkey.” Wade shimmed a bit, winked at Peter, who rolled his eyes, yet she could still see that blush he was failing at hiding.

“His _what?_ ” MJ asked confused and a bit uncomfortable. What the fuck was a spider monkey?

“ _Twilight_ reference, MJ,” Peter said calmly; as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It’s not.

“Hold on, you haven’t seen _Twilight_?” Wade gasped bring his hands up to his face dramatically, like an asshole.

“No, I haven’t, why would I subject myself to that.” She scowled, sitting down on her spot on the couch. Taking another hit, letting the smoke filled her lungs.

“Because it’s quite honestly, one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I have an Edward Cullen Lunchbox, I use it every day.” Wade said proudly, looking off into the distance, looking reminiscent.

“You’re kidding.” She deadpanned, taking another hit.

“Okay, not _every day_.” Wade waved his hand at MJ, smiling to himself. She finished the joint, putting it out on the ashtray and pulled out her phone to play some music.

“Oh! Play some ABBA!” Wade suggested, hopeful.

“Uh, how about No?” MJ rejected, because, no thanks. She’ll stick with her playlist, thank you very much.

“You are no fun, no fun at all.” Wade reached for the remote and queued up _Twilight,_ and MJ turned off her music, staring at her phone for a second. The Spotify logo was weird, like what did even _mean_? What were the squiggles? Who made it? Is he or she doing okay, are they proud of the logo? Do they brag about it at parties? Like “ _oh yeah, I made the Spotify logo_ ” and get like mad pussy or dick? She looked back up, going back into reality. She almost missed Wade snuggling up to Peter. MJ raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, only made eye contact with Peter, who only shrugged and started to watch the movie.

She settled in, but not before grabbing some ice cream, then sat down, but then had to get back up again because she forgot to grab a spoon. She sat down again and looked around for her ice cream. Then she got up again, grabbing a water bottle, for the gross stickiness that was cottonmouth. 

“Guys, where’s my ice cream?” MJ asked, very concerned, like _genuinely_ lost. She searched around the room panicked. What would she without her _Ben and Jerry’s_?  Peter pointed to the floor, where she had left it. Right. Peter rolled his eyes.

Wade knew almost every word the movie, and MJ found herself in tears when Edward carried Bella up that mountain, displaying the awful CGI. Soon enough, the movie was over and MJ found her eyes getting heavy, and bid the two goodnight while they queued up another most likely terrible movie. She looked at them before she went into her room. Wade’s arm was around Peter’s shoulder holding him close, Wade was looking at Peter with eyes that could only be filled with admiration. She smiled to herself and shook her head softly, thinking about how stupid Peter was for not seeing how much Wade liked him.

Like she said, _Smitten._

-

“Are you an idiot?!” Wade yelled, well MJ assumed it was Wade, for she was in her room and she doesn’t think Peter has the strength to yell that loudly and not have his voice raise like, 3 octaves. She got up, knowing that this was going to be good and made her way over the living room.

“Who’s an idiot?” MJ inquired, immediately intrigued. This was going to be good.

“Peter is,” Wade stated as if it was a fact. Which, it kinda was.

“Well, we already knew that. What’s happening?” MJ questioned, sitting on the couch, angling herself towards the pair.

“I am a _scientist_ , I'm not an idiot.” Peter retorted, giving MJ the stink eye. Rude.

“Ben Carson is the first person to perform a successful hemispherectomy. And he’s a _fucking idiot_. So, your point is void.”

“It is not! Wade thinks I’m an idiot. But he’s an idiot.” Peter said in frustration. It was kinda funny.

“It takes one to know one! MJ, he got fuckin’ stabbed for me. For _me!_ I can’t die!”

“And that’s why you’re an idiot! You think that “ _oh my name is Wade and who cares if I can come back to life let’s be reckless and not care about my well being!_ ’”

“You’re both idiots, and this discussion is stupid because you’re both too selfless for your own good. So shut the fuck up and finish with his stitches so we can move on from whatever this is.” 

“How dare you. How dare you be right?” Peter said in mock offense, eyebrows furrowed.

Wade shook his head but finished his stitches in silence. After he stitched the final sitch, he pressed a big, fat, wet peck on the wound. MJ raised an eyebrow, and Peter’s jaw practically hit the floor and his face got bright red. MJ couldn’t help but laugh, for Wade’s face became a bit pink on the cheeks, well pink _er._

“There. Let’s just agree to not get stabbed, okay?” Wade smiled at Peter, eyes mischievous.

“Fine.” Peter scowled, arms crossed but winced on the strain on his arm.

“Guys, it’s like a movie but I’m the director,” MJ said, her reality feeling weird like the silence was the soundtrack, and she was tracking Peter and Wade’s movements. They way they were sitting, they way they looked at each other. It felt like she wasn’t even there. She almost liked it like that.

“Are you high?” Peter asked, his eyebrow raised. He's good at that.

“A little. Okay, a lot.” She laughed again, a lot high. _Who says that?_

“You, you just said that.” Peter rolled his eyes, patting the couch inviting her to sit. _Did I just say that at loud?_ She thought to herself, forgetting to use words.

“Pizza?” Peter propositioned, his voice containing a smile. How that was even possible, she doesn’t know.

“Pizza,” Wade confirmed contently.

Wade pulled out his phone and ordered a pizza, half pineapple and olives, and half cheese. There was silence for a bit, MJ lost in her own thoughts and Peter sitting there, not knowing what to say. After a bit, Wade spoke.

“Honestly, what the _fuck_ is up with shoes? If you think about it, if they weren’t a thing, it would be so weird. Like, imagine you’re just walking down the street, and like getting gross shit in your feet, and you see some random ass dude wearing these weird _things_ on his feet. I don’t like shoes.” Wade said, and pulled up his foot, wiggling his toes. Peter laughed, a lovestruck one. It was cute.

“You know what I want to do, I want to go to a nudist colony. I would, honestly. I just wouldn’t want to subject people to,” Wade waved his hand in front of his unmasked face, “ _this._ ”

Peter pouted, hitting Wade on his shoulder.

“Stop with that,” Peter pestered, and hugged Wade, yet it more like one of those hugs that aren’t really hugs, but more so an invitation to cuddle. Wade didn’t say anything, just kept flipping through Netflix.

“Remember when Netflix was just DVDs? Damn those were the times. Well, you both were probably too young to remember but like, damn, that shit was tight.”

“I’m twenty-two, fuck off. Of course, I remember. Those were the golden ages.” Peter scowls, yet snuggles in closer to Wade, they of course, still said nothing. MJ still thinks they’re both idiots, because who wouldn’t think such a thing, with their obliviousness. Sometimes she worries that Peter is scared to be loved and that Wade doesn't think that anyone could love such a thing.

“You guys are idiots,” MJ commented, not really thinking, her head clouded by the high _. Good shit,_ she thought to herself, smiling.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Wade smirked, and Peter shrugged, adjusting his position to get more comfortable.

After a bit, there's some shitty teen goth movie playing, and Wade comments how similar the main villain looks like Becky, or Bicky, was it? MJ doesn’t care though, she’s too busy laughing. Netflix is really blessing them with shitty movies. Her eyes start to feel droopy, coming down from the high.

“Goodnight. Don’t be too loud, homegirl over here be tired.” MJ gets up, walking over to her door, yet pauses.

“I guess it’s getting pretty late. Mind if I crash here? I’ll take the couch.” She overhears Wade ask.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Peter says, you can almost hear the _want_ in his voice. She can’t help but think to herself, _hoe don’t do it._

“You can just take my bed, it’s comfy,” Peter suggests, almost commands, quite out of character, considering the bottom that he is. Is power bottom still a thing? _Oh my god_ , she thinks to herself, the dude from vine echoing in her head.

There’s silence, so MJ peaks her head around the corner. Wade is looking at Peter weirdly now, eyes filled with something that she’s too high to place. Well, okay she’s not _that_ high, but she was never good at reading people.

Surprisingly, he nods, and gets up, going over to Peter’s door. She quickly shuffles into her room, trying to be quiet with the click. Peter, the mothefucker that he is, follows Wade. Or, that’s what she hears, the sound of two pairs of feet moving towards Peter’s room. After hearing the click, MJ silently makes her way towards Peter’s door, pressing her ear against the door.

“Is this okay?” She hears, Wade’s voice, it’s muffled but she can still hear it.

“Yes, of course. You’re my friend.” Peter says, softly. MJ can barely hear the whisper. Thank god for thin walls, but also not really. It was probably going to suck in the future if their relationship moves past being platonic.

She hears the sheets moving, and the creak of the bed, most likely from the weight. She takes that as her cue to leave, she’ll just ask Peter about it in the morning.

 _Fucking Idiots._ She thinks to herself as she makes her way into her own bed. She goes to sleep, thinking about what it would be like to be loved in the way that they love each other.

-

When she awakes, Peter’s gone, most likely at work. She makes her way into the kitchen, where Wade is making pancakes.

“Sleep well?” She asks, interrupting Wade’s stare at the pancakes. He’s looking at them longingly, deep in thought. He looks up at her, and she realizes how blue his eyes are.

“Yeah, I slept okay.” Wade flips another pancake, dipping his head down away from her. She sits on the shitty kitchen table, waiting.

“You guys are idiots.” She stated, voice monotone.

“You know, you keep on saying that. I gotta say, I’m pretty smart, you’d be surprised. I mean sure, I have my moments. Well, like _a lot_ of moments. Like that one time I tried to make prison wine when I was in high school. It didn’t even _work,_ but you know I couldn’t take my Dad’s shit ‘cos like he just gonna beat me more. Or that one time I “accidentally” broke my legs so that Pete could take me home, just so like I could ride on his back, be his--”

“ _Spider Monkey_ , yeah I know,” MJ interjected, but Wade waved her off and continued his very long, drawn out story.

“Yeah, exactly! But as it turns out, I didn’t even need to break any bones, Pete was all good with carrying me. He’s just like that, fighting for the American people. Though I am Canadian…” Wade trailed off, looking off the side with his eyes squinted, pursing his lips and stroking an imaginary beard.

“You should tell him.”

“No, I shouldn't,” Wade explained, not even denying his feelings, just staring at that pancake. MJ ‘s stomach grumbled, excited for that delicious pancake.

“Piss off. Tell him, don’t be a pussy.” MJ rolled her eyes, it was too early for this shit.

“Does he like me?” Wade questioned, it almost felt like he was talking to _himself_ , yet she knew better than that.

“I can’t tell you that, you’d have to find out for yourself. If you hurt him though, I’m coming after you.”

“You wouldn't have to, I’d already be doing the same thing.” Wade sighed and MJ tried to not think about that.

“Just do it,” MJ suggested, leaning on the table, head laid in her palm. Her eyes were slightly dropped from the lack of sleep.

“Don’t let your dreams just be dreams.” Wade smiles, it’s a soft one, almost barely there.

-

“Let’s get drunk,” Peter says immediately as he enters their apartment. Well, more so yells, for MJ’s in her room working on commissions. She groans standing up, making her way to their living room.

“Alcohol is a _poison_ ,” MJ stated, for it’s true. It is a poison, no one has ever died from weed. Well, like regular weed. Not weird laced or synthetic shit, which wouldn't even be a problem if weed was legal and people could access pot from a safe dispensary and not have to worry about shady ass drug dealers.

“ _Please?_ ” Peter pleaded, eyes soft, yet sad.

“Fine.” She grumbled, crossing her arms, grabbing the Smirnoff from their very small alcohol stash.

Turns out, maybe alcohol wasn’t a very good idea. After far too many shots, Peter’s crying, about Wade of course.

"‘I just… don’t know what to do. I really, really like him. He’s just so,” Peter waves his hands in the air, a strained look on his face, searching for words. He makes a pained sound and sank further into the couch.

“You should tell him.” She repeats, feeling deja vu from the morning.

“I can’t. I’m _scared._ I’ve never felt like this before. I just… don’t know. We slept in the same bed together! Like a _rom-com_! We woke all _cuddlin_ ’ in shit. He ‘asn’t awake, he was _beautiful_ , and I just… don’t get why ‘e doesn’t see how ‘exy and great...He’s just so great. He cares so much, about people. He cares. No one has cared for me in the way he has. Well, besides you and Ned and Aunt May and Tony, and you know? I mean, like it’s _different_. It _feels_ different.” Peter says, tears falling down his cheeks, his speech slurred.

“‘M, gonna tell ‘em.” Peter whips out his phone, struggling with his password. She jumps up stumbling, this was a very bad idea. She snatches the phone out of his hand. Well, tries to. She misses and Peter jumps on the ceiling to avoid her.

“Peter! No!” She jumps trying to reach him. _Shit shit shit_. She thinks, then grabs a nearby book, _The Curious Incident in the Dog in the Nighttime_ , and throws it at Peter, almost missing him. The book falls at an awkward angle, and MJ sighs, she really liked that book. Peter falls down in surprise, dropping his phone in the process. That was going to leave a mark. She stumbles and grabs it, out of Peter’s way.

“Why not?”

“ _Because._ Don’t drunk text him. This mine now.” MJ lectured Peter as she slipped the phone in her bra, the only place it would be safe.

“You… suck. Dick!” He slurs, now laid on the floor on his stomach, his cheek pressed on the floor facing MJ. She joins him.

“You know that’s not true.”

“Sam McDoriss would say otherwise.” Peter quips back, sticking out his tongue. She hits him, softly of course.

“ _One_ time! You suck more dick than me.” She rolls her eyes, laughing. It sounding different, most likely from the alcohol.

“And I’m _DAMN_ well good at it!” He practically screams, pulling his head up slightly when he says “damn”, then drops back the floor, hitting his head. She hears a quiet “ow” from him.

“Wade would think so.” She smirks, ignoring the cold feeling on her cheek.

“No! He… wouldn’t. He… doesn’t care.” Peter says softly, sounding defeated.

“Yes, he does.” She responds, maybe a bit aggressive than she meant to. Peter doesn’t seem to notice.

“‘Hm tired. Let’s watch _Twilight._ ‘Minds me of him”

“No, you’re going to cry thinking of him.”  MJ protested, getting up and sitting criss-cross-applesauce. Damn, she misses applesauce, can’t eat now because she’s an adult. Kinda.

“Yeah, I know,” Peter says softly, speech still slurred. She can see tears that painted his cheeks and reached over to wipe them off. She picks him up and lays him the couch. She puts on _Parks and Rec_ , then grabs Water and a bagel.

“Wade… loves bagels!”

“Shut the… ‘uck up.” She responds, rolling her eyes and shoving the bagel in his face. He nibbles on it sadly, something she didn’t think was possible.

They fall asleep on the couch, MJ’s stomach feeling queasy, knowing she was going to regret this in the morning. _Fuck you. Smirnoff_. She thinks before she falls asleep, hearing the soft snores coming from Peter.

-

MJ had a hangover. Peter, the bastard that he is, didn’t. She didn’t even want to drink in the first place. Peter didn’t remember much, only when MJ was fixing up some toast, he asked:

“Was I on the ceiling last night?” Peter asked.

“Yes. You tried to drunk text Wade. I stopped your drunk ass from doin’ it.” MJ told Peter, looking at Peter who now groaned an leaned against the wall pathetically.

“Shit. I’m sorry you had to deal with my drunk ass.” Peter pleaded, moving to sit on the floor, like a baby.

“Eh, I don't mind. I had fun, for the most part. I mean, what are friends for? When I greened out you were there for me.” 

“Still, thank you.” Peter thanked, sounding sincere. It made MJ’s heart fill with warmth, although she barely said it, she loved the idiotic mess that was Peter Parker.

“You cried about Wade,” MJ stated, leaning against the counter.

“Now _that,_ I remember.” Peter laughed, pointing at nothing in particular. Maybe God, who knows.

“ _Tell. Him._ ” MJ demanded because, for fuck's sake, this drama was getting exhausting.

“What if I mess everything up?”

“You won’t, and who gives a _fuck._ You guys cuddle! _C-U-D-D-L-E,_ do I have to spell it out for you? Look. Do what you want, but don’t mope around being all sad about Wade when you haven’t even _tried_ to do anything about it. If he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore after you tell him, though I highly doubt that would ever happen in a million years, then he ain’t shit.” MJ ranted passionately, hands waving in the air all dramatically. Peter stood there for a little bit, pondering.

“Okay. I’m gonna do it.”

“Atta boy. You guys have to give me a heads up if you guys fuck here.” MJ instructed, taking a bit out her toast and walking away, not caring enough to see Peter’s reaction. She already knew what it was.

-

Next time she sees Wade, she’s coming back from the store, groceries in hand. She dropped her bags. Wade and Peter are well, sucking face. Making out, french kissing, all that. It was _gross._ Just because she wanted them together, doesn’t mean she wanted to _see i_ t.

“What the _fuck?_ ” She almost yelled, well, definitely yelled. Maybe even squeaked a bit. They broke apart, Peter had the classic look of panic on his face while Wade gave an awkward grin. There was silence for a second, MJ’s eyes darting from looking at Wade, and then looking at Peter, and then shifting her gaze to her dropped bags.

“Uh, surprise?” Wade spoke, his voice a bit more high pitched and he shrugged slightly, holding his hands up in question. Peter laughed awkwardly, while MJ was giving him the stink eye.

“You’re cleaning this up.” She pointed to the groceries on the floor. Peter gave an awkward apologetic smile, and MJ rolled her eyes. She walked towards her room, stopping at her door before yelling:

“Also, for the record, I told you so.”

Wade laughed, and she heard Peter shove him slightly, or maybe a bit aggressively because Wade let out an annoyed “ _ow!_ ”

They’re idiots. But she’s happy for them, they deserve to be idiots together.

-

When MJ came out from her cave a couple hours later, Wade and Peter were cuddling on the couch watching _Arrested Development._ Though, this was different from before. Before they were side by side, a heavy arm slung behind Peter, holding him close. Still sappy as fuck, but you know.

Now, they were sprawled on the couch, taking up the whole space, with Peter wedged in between Wade’s legs, his back pressed against Wade’s chest. Wade had both his arms around Peter’s torso, his arms hooked underneath Peter’s armpits, Peter resting his hands on Wade’s intertwined much larger ones, his head was buried in Peter’s brown curls. Wade pressed a kiss on Peter’s head, then whispered something in Peter’s ear, causing Peter to laugh and look at Wade. The look he gave Wade, it was filled with so much love, this time unrestrained, and Wade was looking right back, smiling and soaking it up. Wade pressed a kiss on the tip of Peter’s nose and went back to watching the show.

It was disgusting. Disgustingly _cute._

MJ made her way to the couch and tapped their legs, making them both lift their legs to make way for her. They laid their legs on MJs lap, which like, _not cool._ She scowls at Peter, who returns the scowl with a cocky grin, taunting he r. She rolled her eyes, and grabbed one of the pillows and sat on the floor, using the pillow to support her butt. She leaned against the couch and started to watch _Arrested Development,_ even though the image beside her was much more interesting.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! I worked pretty hard on this bitch right here. So leave me some comments giving me love, just cuz. 
> 
> Special Thanks to my beta: [QueerTrex](https://queertrex.tumblr.com/), I don't know what I would do without them.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr, and feel free to message me if you want advice for writing or have any questions! [DittyWitty](https://dittywitty.tumblr.com/)


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